Page 74 of Beautiful Exile

He arched an eyebrow. “And are you one for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres?”

I made a face. Stuffy parties were not my thing. “Sacrifices must be made for a good cause.”

Linc’s gaze roamed over my face, taking me in. The movement felt like his fingertips were grazing the skin, making every nerve ending stand at attention. “Let me guess. Never for personal gain but always willing to fall on your sword for the kids.”

One of said kids let out a battle cry as if to punctuate Linc’s point.

The corner of my mouth kicked up, and I shrugged. “They’re worth it.”

“They are. But there’s more.”

Of course, Linc would see that there was a deeper motivation for me, a clawing need to give to others what had been given to me. “I didn’t talk when I came to live with the Colsons.”

Pain streaked across Linc’s expression. I tried not to let it land—the fact that he cared so deeply about my agony—and pushed on. “I was scared all the time. So sure those men would find me again. Kill me this time.”

“Arden,” Linc rasped.

“But things changed. It was gradual and a multi-person effort, but it all started with paint and Lolli.”

A little of the sadness and pain lifted from Linc’s eyes. “I hope she wasn’t doing dick art with you when you were twelve.”

I choked on a laugh. “No. She was in her oils and landscape phase then and would set up two easels for us in the backyard every day. She’d talk some but never expected me to answer. She taught me the basics and told me to let out whatever I needed to.”

A muscle fluttered along Linc’s jaw. “It’s how you started letting out the darkness.”

I nodded. “There were other things, too. Nora taught me about horses, and I discovered their healing powers. When Kye came to live with us, he taught me how to protect myself and feel strong. And slowly but surely, I found my way through. It wasn’t back to the girl I’d been because she was gone, but I’d become someone better. Someone more real.”

Linc moved in then, crowding me. His fingers slid into my hair and tipped my head back. “So fucking strong.”

“Because others helped me find that strength, the healing. I want to make sure I give that outlet to anyone who needs it.”

“You’re killing me, Vicious.” Linc’s head dipped, his lips brushing mine with a featherlight touch.

Then, a tiny but very angry voice broke into my Linc-haze. “Whyare you kissing my girlfriend, mister?”

27

LINCOLN

I pulled back from Arden,the taste of cherries still clinging to my lips and stared down at the little boy. He looked about seven or eight, but his stance was decades older. He had his arms crossed over his tiny chest and glared at me.

“Your girlfriend, huh?” I asked.

“Yes,” he huffed. “Miss Arden has my painting on her fridge, and I let her have half my cookies at lunch break.”

I glanced at Arden as she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Painting and cookies? That sounds serious. More than I can compete with,” I said.

The boy let out something that sounded almost like aharumphan elderly man would make in a cartoon as he pinned me with a warning stare. “You should remember that. I’ll be watching you.” He stalked away.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “You didn’t tell me you were already involved.”

Arden let out a laugh that was more giggle than anything, andsomething about the lightness of it eased some of the weight of our earlier conversation. “I’m sorry. Would you believe it slipped my mind?”

“Vicious. Now, I need to start working on a painting and find some damn cookies,” I muttered. “It’s hard to keep up.”

Arden laughed harder.

“You got the smackdown from Benny, didn’t you?” Isaiah asked as he strode up, his eyes dancing with humor.

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